


Ba'slan Shev'la

by CallMeCaptainOrSir



Series: How to Raise a Rebellion [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergence - Order 66, Childhood Trauma, Coruscant, F/M, Force-Sensitive Numa, Found Family, Gen, Leather Jackets, Lots of backstory hint dropping, Lower Coruscant, M/M, Order 66, Prosthetics, Protective Boil, Trauma, Twi'leks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 17:44:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15868590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeCaptainOrSir/pseuds/CallMeCaptainOrSir
Summary: Ba'slan shev'laMando’atrans:Strategic Disappearance_________________________________Our motley crew find themselves in Coruscant's lower levels, in need of clothes, shelter, and answers. They only find more questions.





	Ba'slan Shev'la

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [MVPYurio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MVPYurio) for giving this a read-through, go check out her stuff (particularly her awesome scienceshipping au)!

The gloom of the lower levels seemed painfully bright as the nine emerged from the tunnels. Numa had found a second wind and opted to walk, little hand wrapped tight in Boil’s. He checked over the group. He’d had to pass Keran to Breach, who carried the little girl close to his chest. Hertz looked like he’d marched miles further than they had, Garrett a stoic presence at his side.

“What now?” The kid reminded him of Waxer, a bit. Squad leader back on Kamino, he’d always seemed too old for his six years, too protective and precocious.

“Now we blend in, get safe. Then we figure out what the”—he caught himself—“what’s going on. We need new clothes and a place to rest.” The mix of blacks, armor and Jedi robes stood out, badly.

“I think we’re on level 1309, there’s a shop near here we can trade in what we’ve got.” At odds with the subdued mood of the group, Junker seemed about ready to vibrate out of his skin. “I wouldn’t bring the kids though, they’d stand out too much lookin’ all Jedi.”

“You go.” Boil pulled off his bucket. He smiled grimly at it, then offered it to Breach. “You too. Meet us back here in an hour.”

The man passed Keran back to Boil, taking the helmet almost reverently. Boil had run more missions than any of the rest of them, and it showed. Junker emptied his pack, making space for the others’ armor. “We’ll be quick.”

* * *

Alleys, Hertz decided, were never a pleasant place to spend any amount of time. This one, though, easily took the first place among bad alleys. Nothing quite compared to the filth of lower Coruscant. He’d given in to fatigue and perched on the edge of a crate. Terek was nearly plastered against his side, his eyes a million miles away. He was far removed from the casual physical affection of the vod’e, but Hertz found this contact didn’t bother him like it usually did. It was hard to feel anything but bad for the kid.

“You’re 212th, yeah?”

“I didn’t spend much time with them,” Hertz waved the hand not holding Siras, the metal shiny dully in the low light, “But yes.”

“Mind my asking what happened? Must have been pretty close to deploying for me to not know you.” He tilted his head at him from his spot against the alley wall.

“It was.” Boil raised his eyebrows and Hertz shook his head sharply, glancing meaningfully at the kids.  _ Let him fill in the pieces.  _

Boil nodded and let the subject drop. “What do you think, about all of this?”

“Do you mean 501st, the Jedi, or the fascinating aroma we’ve discovered here?” he said dryly.

He barked a laugh, “I meant the 501st, but any of it.”

“I think we just got involved in something a lot bigger than we were trained for, sir.”

“We’re deserters, if not traitors at this point, you can drop the rank, shiny.”

Hertz huffed, “We’re deserters, if not traitors at this point. We’re all flying blind here.”

“Fair enough.”

Garrett peered around the corner onto the street. “Boil?”  
“Yeah? What is it?”

“There’s a clone in the street.” The boy’s voice was tight with fear. “What do we do?”

He exchanged a glance with Hertz. “Wait here, stay quiet.” He set Keran down, creeping to the end of the alley. A lone clone in 212th gold was pacing in the street. The red medic symbol on his shoulder and the solid paint across his arm pieces identified him. Boil set his blaster to stun, tucked it into his waistband, and stepped out into the open.

“Shilo!”

The man spun around to see him, his face blank. “CT-6183, you were to report to medical for a concussion.”

“Shilo?” He tensed, but waited. “What’s going on?”

“I am CT-3954, and you are disobeying orders. Good soldiers follow orders.” The medic reached for his blaster, “You must come with me and submit to reconditioning.”

Boil was faster. A clean shot to the chest dropped him, his weapon clattering to the ground as Shilo crumpled.

* * *

“Little gods, we were gone less than an hour.” Breach and Junker slipped into the alley, dressed as spacers with a fully loaded pack each. “What the kriff happened?”

“Things are more wrong than we thought they were.” Hertz had Shilo sprawled across his lap, the other man solidly unconscious but bound all the same.

“I can’t feel him,” said Numa.

“What? He’s not dead,” asked Breach, “Is he?”

“No,” said Boil. “I just stunned him. He tried to shoot me, didn’t sound like himself at all. He wouldn’t respond to his name, just his number.”

“That’s bad. That’s really bad.” Junker ran a hand across his close buzzed hair. “Kid, what do you mean ‘you can’t feel him’?”

Numa frowned. “He’s there, but he’s….like a tree.” She turned to Garrett, “You feel it too, right? He’s alive but he’s not a person.”

“Yes, I do.” At the not quite glare leveled at him from Junker he tried to explain. “People all feel different in the Force, they have emotions and stuff.”

“They’re colorful!” Numa cut in, “He’s just grey.”

“Exactly, he’s missing...everything.”

“How do we fix it?”

“Easy.” Boil set a hand on his shoulder, “It’s way beyond them, they’re not even commanders yet.”

“I think,” said Hertz, “that we need to get out of this alley, find something to eat, and then decide what to do about this.” He looked down, “You know it’s what Shilo’d tell us to do.”

“Okay, you’re right.” Breach pulled his pack off and started passing out clothes, “I’ll just swap his armor for my coat, should be good enough for now.”

It took the two of them to maneuver their brother out of his armor and into the stiff leather without taking off the binders, but they managed it. Boil helped the younglings into their new clothes. Terek tucked his lightsaber into his sleeve and the others followed suit. Hertz thought they looked like the worst pirate crew in the galaxy. Junker’s influence was pretty obvious, by the amount of leather they’d ended up with. It was honestly impressive he’d managed to find a jacket small enough to fit Numa. She looked rather pleased, swishing the heavy coat back and forth around her legs.

“Junker, you wouldn’t happen to have a place we can spend the night, would you?” asked Boil.

“I do,” said Breach. “There’s a cheap motel just a level down, they’re not picky about who they serve.”

“Give me a hand? I’m kinda pinned.” Garrett took Siras and Hertz pulled Shilo to his feet, an arm around his shoulder. Junker took his other side and they headed out.

* * *

The motel was maybe half a step better than the alley had been. As a roach skittered by his feet, Boil questioned bringing the kids into a place like this. Would they get sick? That’s a thing kids do, right? But the Twi’lek at the front desk greeted Breach with familiar affection.

“Got room for all of us? Just for a bit, we’ll get out of your hair quick as we can.” Breach seemed totally at ease and Boil couldn’t help wondering if he’d originally misjudged the affable brother.

“For you, always.” She grinned at Numa, “ Dan cao a inu'a kue ceu vrima numa?”

The little girl planted her hands on her hips, “Bo vonklaram'o! korjin ohk cla suk ar ohk loo kao san.”

Garrett bit back a laugh and the woman winked at him.

“How do you know her name?” said Boil.

“What do you mean?”

“Numa, it’s her name.”

She laughed, “I didn’t, numa means sister. I’m Wydel.”

“Boil. That’s Junker and Hertz.” He gestured to the men in question. “The drunk’s Shilo. Promise he’s usually not like that.”

“Friends of Breach are friends of mine. I’ll show you rooms.”

Wydel led them through a door at the back of the lobby and up a narrow flight of stairs. “Take the two rooms on the end.” She passed them key chips and, at Junker’s look, shrugged. “Clones, can’t exactly code it to your prints.”

Hertz smiled wryly, “No, I supposed you couldn’t.”

“Thanks Wy, I promise we won’t be any trouble at all.” She tilted her head, looking over their strange group.

“Somehow, di’kut, I doubt it.” Wydel clapped a hand to Breach’s shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” said Junker.

She smirked, “Wasn’t talking to you.” She looked down to Numa, “You keep them in line, yeah?”

“I will!” Numa waved to her as she disappeared back down the halls.

“Breach,” said Boil, “your friend is terrifying.”  
“I like her!” cried Numa, tugging him towards the closest door.

“Of course you do,” he sighed.

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided on a proper posting schedule for this au, so expect a new work on the first of each month! I wanted to try for more, but with school and working on other stuff, it just didn't seem realistic.
> 
> Come chat with me at [STAR KINGS](https://millicentisdone.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Check out Hertz's GAR armor [here](https://millicentisdone.tumblr.com).


End file.
